


Filthy Fingers on my Shotgun

by alphvjensen



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Fingering, Blow Jobs, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, Finger Sucking, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-25
Updated: 2017-09-25
Packaged: 2019-01-05 11:01:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12188715
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alphvjensen/pseuds/alphvjensen
Summary: "John once believed that the only monsters out there in the world were the only that he hunted at night. The ones that feed on human hearts or blood. The ones that stuck to the shadows and killed just for the thrill of it. Monsters were ghosts who broke necks and black dogs that drug your soul to hell. He believed it with his whole being. It was black and white. Either you were human or you were a monster.That was until he started looking at his youngest son. Sam, who had his older brother wrapped so tight around his little finger that you would think it was stockholm syndrome."





	Filthy Fingers on my Shotgun

John once believed that the only monsters out there in the world were the only that he hunted at night. The ones that feed on human hearts or blood. The ones that stuck to the shadows and killed just for the thrill of it. Monsters were ghosts who broke necks and black dogs that drug your soul to hell. He believed it with his whole being. It was black and white. Either you were human or you were a monster.

That was until he started looking at his youngest son. Sam, who had his older brother wrapped so tight around his little finger that you would think it was stockholm syndrome.

Sam was dangerous. As much as it hurt him to admit it, he was dangerous. There was something about his face, those pink lips that would wrap around a cherry lollipop, staining them red. He’s only fourteen, so young and seemingly innocent but John knew otherwise. He knew just how filthy his youngest was.

Dean was away on some date with some girl and John knew that he wasn’t going to be back until the morning.

He dreaded these nights, when he was left alone with his youngest.

He stayed up as late as he could, watching Sam out of the corner of his eye as if he was some predator waiting to attack. He was reading some book for school, jotting down notes periodically. John wasn’t sure how long he sat there watching his son, he was weary to look away from Sam to take a look at the clock but after some time, Sam moved from his spot where he was curled up on the couch and walked over to his bed, climbing underneath the covers.

John let out a breath that he didn’t know that he was holding and waited until Sam’s breathing evened out before he shut off the lights and climbed into his bed, ready to fall into a fitful sleep. Ever since he learned that a monster had taken hold of his youngest, he hadn’t been able to sleep soundly through the night.

He was in that place where he was tettering dangerously on the edge of being asleep and awake when he felt the bed dip behind him, the blankets shifting as Sam crawled in behind him.

“Are you still awake, daddy?” Sam asked, his voice sickly sweet and John’s stomach dropped to his feet, his blood running cold in his veins.

He could pretend that he had fallen asleep. Maybe Sam would give up, leave him alone for the night and crawl back into his own bed and let John keep this last piece of sanity. But he could feel the heat coming off of Sam in waves and already he could feel that tight coil of unnatural want starting to bloom in his stomach.

“Sam, not tonight.” John whispered back. “I need to sleep.”

There was a small puff of air that fanned out across the back of his neck and then he felt the cold fingertips of the small boy wrapping around his arm and rolling him onto his back. Then Sam threw his leg over John’s waist, placing his hands flat on John’s chest as he straddled his father's hips.

“You’re tense, daddy.” Sam whispered as he ran his hands up and down John’s chest, acting as if he didn’t hear his father. “You’re working too hard. It’s not healthy.” His voice was syrup thick as he leaned down to plaster his body on John’s chest. The boy was completely naked. “I can help you relax, daddy.”

John hated himself. If he was a stronger man, he would have said no. The first time that this happened, when Sam crawled into his lap without a stitch of clothing on and begged for things that no son should beg for, John should have pushed him away. Instead he let Sam do what he wanted to do. He was weak and he gave this power to his son that he couldn’t fight, no matter how much he wanted too.

“Sam…” It was a soft whine, one that was supposed to be warning, begging Sam to not do this tonight but it came out more as a plea. It always sounded like a plea.

“Shh.” Sam cooed. “I’m going to take care of you, daddy.”

Sam pressed a chaste kiss to John’s lips and John hated the way that they tasted like candy. He left little kitten kisses to John’s face, down his jaw, nibbling at the salt and pepper scruff. He paused at that one spot right over his pulse point that always made John moan so softly for him.

Then he moved down John’s body, so slow and teasing, his candy lips leaving a wet little trail down John’s body. Sam had been letting his hair grow out, letting it hang over his face and Sam loved the way that John shivered when it brushed across his skin. He kissed along John’s hipbones, sucking just enough that it would leave little red marks behind before he wrapped his skinny fingers around his cock. John lurched forward, bucking up into Sam’s hand and he wished that he had more control over his body. That he didn’t turn into putty whenever Sam touched him.

Sam teased him just because he could, letting his breath fan out over the sensitive parts of John’s body, letting his lips just barely brush over where John wished that he didn’t need him so desperately.

Still John shifted on the bed in anticipation, fisting his hands in the blankets because he wasn’t going to allow himself to touch Sam. He wasn’t going to give Sam that satisfaction.

Sam made himself comfortable in between John’s legs before he placed his tongue flat on the base of his cock, slowly dragging his tongue all the way up to the slit where he lapped at the pre-cum that had beaded at the tip. Sam moaned like it was the sweetest thing that he had ever tasted and John was sure that if he asked, Sam would only confirm that thought.

John’s entire body went rigid when Sam started licking at the length and then all of the sudden, wrapping his lips around the tip and sucked. He took John as far in his mouth as he possibly could, making sure that his mouth was cotton soft and warm.

Sam bobbed his head a couple of times, fighting down his gag reflex whenever John hit the back of his throat and it took everything in John not to just  _ touch _ his little boy. 

He wasn’t sure where Sam learned how to suck cock like this and he didn’t want to think about him on his knees in front of anyone else but him. His traitorous little heart wanted Sam all to himself even though he knew that he shouldn’t want this.

Sam pumped his cock a couple of times, making sure that his grip was feather light and whenever Sam moaned, the vibrations sent pulses up and down John’s body. Sam never seemed to need to breath when he was like this, intent on making his father come in his mouth except it seemed like Sam wanted more than that because he kept dragging it out. Whenever John let out a particularly punched out moan, a warning sound that he was about to come, Sam squeezed his fingers tight around the base of his cock, staving off the orgasm.

After what felt like an eternity, Sam pulled off of John’s cock, his lips red and swollen and wet with saliva he crawled back up John’s body, straddling his waist once more.

“I opened myself up for you, daddy.” Sam said with a filthy whisper. “Made sure that I was stretched out and ready for you so you wouldn’t have to do anything.”

“Sam…” John whined once again but Sam captured his lips with his own and John could taste himself on the boys’ lips.

Sam broke the kiss to rest his forehead on John’s chest and watch the way that John’s cock filled him so nicely. Slowly he lowered himself onto John, letting every single dirty, filthy sound leave his lips just so that John could hear what he did to him. 

It felt like it always did. Tight and warm and so goddamn good that if John didn’t have any morals left he would always sink his cock inside the boy and with the way that Sam was moaning, he knew that Sam wouldn’t object to that.

“You feel so good, daddy.” Sam moaned, drunk with it. “Fill me up just right. I’m so full of you right now.” Sam had John all the way inside of him, his balls pressed up flush against Sam’s ass.

Sam rose just a little bit, rolling his hips before he dropped back down.

“I bet you can feel you inside of me.” Sam said, this time his voice barely above a whisper like this was the dirtiest thing that he’s said, that he’s done. He grabbed John’s hand that was still fisted in the bed and splayed it across his lower stomach. John almost choked on his tongue because Sam was right. He could feel the head of his cock pushing against the soft flesh of Sam’s stomach and when Sam moved, John could feel his cock moving instead of him on the tip of his fingers. “Can you feel it, daddy?”

John nodded because he didn’t trust his voice to make coherent sounds.

Then Sam started moving, really moving. Rising up on his knees to where the flare tip of his cock was catching on his rim and then he would sink back down, moaning so soft and pretty when the tip of his cock hit his prostate. Sam grabbed John’s wrist, removing it from his stomach and brought it up to him mouth, sucking on his index and middle finger like he was getting paid for it. Sam always did need something in his mouth.

John could only lay there and watch his son as Sam carried them both closer and closer to an orgasm and Sam knew how to do it perfectly.

Mary was always tight and when she wrapped her legs around his hips, she would only get tighter but she never felt like this, this warm and tight, squeezing around his cock like a vice.

Sam came first, like he always did, painting John’s stomach in white and it would only be seconds that John would paint the inside of his youngest son. Sam rode out John’s orgasm, milking everything out of him that he could before he raised back up on his knees, still hovering over his father.

John made another choked sound that came from deep within his chest when Sam reached on skinny arm behind him and fingered his loose and open hole, swiping up the come that was slowly sliding down the back of his thighs and brought it to his lips. He licked his fingers clean, reaching behind him to swipe more on his fingers and John wasn’t sure where his son learned to be do dirty.

“You taste so good, daddy.” Sam moaned around his fingers before he rolled off John and curled up next to him, pulling the blankets up to cover them both.

John just laid there, wishing that his heart would slow back down and that this was all just a nightmare. That his son wasn’t a siren and that he wasn’t the monster that took whatever Sam offered.

In the dark Sam whispered, “You can still finger my hole if you want too, daddy. I feel empty when you’re not inside of me.”

And John did only because Sam was looking at him with those puppy dog eyes that he couldn’t ever deny and there was a part of him that loved the way that Sam’s fucked out hole would try to clench around his fingers when he pushed past his rim.

In the morning, John is always the first to wake up, his youngest still curled up against him, sleep warm and baby soft. He laid there, staring up at the popcorn ceiling and pray that there’s a hunt somewhere before he runs off to the shower, desperate to wash the sin that had dried on his body from the night before. After his skin is scrubbed raw, pink and red, he fixed himself a cup of coffee that had more whiskey than caffeine and purposely not look at Sam who’s still asleep sprawled out on the white blankets.

The morning sun bleeds through the curtains, painting his skin gold.

A small moan drew John’s attention away from the newspaper that he was reading and he looked up to see Sam awake and stretching, his long, colt limbs growing even longer, a sleepy smile on his lips. Then Sam stalked out of bed, walked over to where John was and planted a kiss on his mouth, tasting the whiskey that stained John’s breath.

Sam frowned at that, his beautiful face turned down as he opened his mouth, talking with innocence that he doesn’t have, “Why do you drink so much, daddy?”

**Author's Note:**

> So this one was a new one for me. Like the ship and it's filthy but I like this Sammy. So sweet that he's poisonous and John who tries not to give in but he can't. Thoughts, comments and opinions are always welcomed.


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